


Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything

by morganofthefairies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20? I don't know her, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Dean deserves a soft ending, Found Family, Homophobic John Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, John Winchester's Journal, M/M, dean turns 42!, finale denialist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganofthefairies/pseuds/morganofthefairies
Summary: When he turned 17, Dean wanted to spend his birthday with his family and instead he got sent on his first solo hunt.When he turns 42, he doesn't expect anything after a lifetime of missed birthdays.  Instead, he spends the day with his family.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 305





	Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a little something for Dean's 42nd birthday and this is what happened. Enjoy!

** January 24, 1996 **

Dean’s hands shook as he rifled through the contents he’d found hidden behind the loose stone. A bible… some letters… bingo! He heard the ghosts of the nuns howl outside of the door as his fingers found the two locks of hair – one dark, one sandy brown. 

The door rattled as he salted the hair before flicking on his lighter. As it lit, his fingers slipped and he dropped the now-extinguished lighter onto the floor at his feet. He picked it up before taking a deep breath to steady himself. The nuns were still howling on the other side of the door when Dean finally lit the locks of hair. As it burned, he heard one final cry before silence reigned.

Dean was still shaking when he collapsed against the wall of the mission.

This wasn’t how he had imagined spending his 17th birthday.

It had started out pretty good – he’d woken up to Sammy jumping on his motel bed, and then his dad had taken him shooting. He never really got to celebrate his birthday, but this was the first one in years his dad was _there_ for.

Then his dad had handed him a file and told him that he thought Dean was finally ready for his first solo hunt. Something had churned uncomfortably in his belly – the feeling of joy at the approval from his dad clashing with the desire to just spend the day with his family – but he had swallowed down the disappointment and thanked John.

When he’d read over the research John had done, something cold had seeped into Dean’s blood.

_He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows._

He felt the words beat in his head with every pulse of blood in his ears.

Dean had forced what he hoped was a nonchalant smile onto his face and left the hotel. He lifted a car – his dad insisted he needed the Impala himself – and took off for Riverton, Wyoming.

For a while, the hunt itself had blocked the panic Dean had felt earlier from rising to the surface. Now, though, the nuns were gone and Dean was left with the pulsing in his ears.

_He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows._

Dean dug his teeth into his bottom lip, hoping the pain would ground him. Where had he gone wrong? He was _so careful._ He knew his let his eyes wander a bit when it was just him and Sam, but when John was around he made sure to keep that shit _locked down._

With shaking hands, he picked up the bible and the letters. He knew he should burn them. He knew that’s what John would want him to do – that he risked the nuns not _really_ being gone if he didn’t burn them. If John found out…

He flipped open the old bible and saw an inscription in beautifully looped cursive.

_For my angel, Isabella. Isaiah 43:4_

_-Anna_

Without really thinking about it, Dean flipped to the passage and read the lines Anna had underlined.

_Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, I will give people in exchange for you, nations in exchange for your life._

Bile rose in Dean’s throat, and he realized with sort of a muted horror that he was crying.

It wasn’t _fair._

He couldn’t do anything to stop the sob that bubbled up in his chest, and once it fell from his lips, it was as though a dam broke. He sobbed – ugly and snotty and loud – until his eyes were red and swollen and his throat was scratchy. He cried for Isabella and Anna, who died because they loved each other. He cried for himself, because John _knew_ and he was telling Dean how he felt about it without telling him.

When he finally quieted, and the sobs turned to hiccups and the hiccups turned to steady breaths, he put the letters back behind the loose stone, and he put the bible into his bag.

It was stupid, but he needed to remember. He needed to remember Anna and Isabella, because they deserved someone to remember them, and he needed to remember that John had given him an answer without Dean having to ask the question.

So, Dean would remember, and he would bury that piece of him behind the stone with Anna and Isabella’s letters.

** January 24th, 2021 **

As had become usual over the past few months, the first thing Dean became aware of when he woke was Cas’s arm wrapped tightly around his middle, pressing Dean’s back to the newly-human Cas’s front. It still made Dean smile, and he pressed back against his boyfriend’s body, wanting to be as close as possible.

In his sleep, Cas made a little snuffling sound and pressed his forehead between Dean’s shoulders. Dean closed his eyes once more, allowing himself the time to appreciate the warmth that blanketed him.

He was still getting used to waking up like this – warm and safe and loved, instead of jolting from sleep with his fingers wrapped around a gun – and he hoped he never stopped appreciating it.

He felt Cas stir behind him, and turned so their foreheads were pressed together.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured gently, pressing a kiss to the other man’s nose.

“Early,” Cas grumbled, burying himself further into Dean’s embrace. Dean chuckled and nuzzled into Cas’s neck. “Deeeeeaaaan,” Cas whined, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at his adorable, grumpy boyfriend.

“I’ll go get us coffee,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to Cas’s cheek before pulling out of Cas’s arms.

“Love you,” Cas mumbled, smile evident in his voice. Dean was pulling on his hot dog pajama pants when Cas sat bolt upright in bed. “Wait,” he said, voice urgent even as his eyes were still hazy with sleep. “Get back in bed. I’ll get us coffee.”

Dean frowned in confusion at Cas’s behavior.

“Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I haven’t made your coffee wrong in months.”

“Dean,” Cas whined again, blankets pooling around his waist and hands reaching out for Dean. “Please?”

Unable to deny Cas such a simple request, slid back under the covers. Now that Cas seemed more awake, however, instead of letting him head to the kitchen for coffee, he pressed Cas back into the pillowed, catching his boyfriend’s mouth with his own.

They kissed languidly for a few minutes, Cas’s hands resting on Dean’s shoulders as Dean’s found Cas’s hips. When Dean moved to trail kisses along Cas’s jaw and down his neck, Cas tilted his head to grant Dean better access.

It didn’t take long for Cas to flip their positions so Dean was under him. He hovered over Dean, pupils blown wide as he caught his breath for a moment before diving back in, kissing Dean much more hungrily than their last kiss had been. Dean’s fingers had just slid under the waistband of Cas’s boxers with the intention of sliding them off when Cas stilled suddenly.

“Wait,” Cas gasped out, pulling away from the kiss. Dean tried to follow his lips for more, but Cas held him down against the pillows. Dean whined, and Cas looked pained for a moment before a resolve settled on his face. “Not yet,” Cas said, and Dean didn’t even try to keep the pout off of his face.

“Why?” This time it was Dean’s turn to whine.

Before Cas could answer, there was a knock on the door and Dean groaned as Cas rolled off of him.

“Go away,” Dean called at the same time Cas said, “come in!”

Jack came in first holding a tray, followed by Claire with her own tray. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion and looked over at Cas, who was beaming at him.

“Happy birthday, dad,” Jack said enthusiastically. “Claire and I made you breakfast in bed!” Jack placed his tray on Cas’s lap as Claire placed hers on Dean’s.

“When did you get here,” Dean asked, looking at Claire as his brain struggled to catch up with him.

“A little after 1 AM,” Claire responded before rolling her eyes and huffing, “and I think what you meant to say was _thank you._ ”

“Thank you,” Dean replied, gaze jumping between Claire and Jack before he glanced down at the spread. Each tray had coffee, orange juice, bacon, sausages, and pancakes. Emotion welled in his chest, and he felt Cas squeeze his hand, grounding him.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Claire said. “We’ll let you two eat.”

With that, Claire and Jack disappeared through the door.

“I figured we shouldn’t risk Claire and Jack walking in during birthday sex,” Cas said once they left, shrugging one shoulder apologetically. Dean grinned at him.

“So now that they’re gone...,” Dean trailed off, and Cas grinned back at him.

It was two hours later when Dean and Cas walked into the main room of the bunker fed, showered, and ready for the day. Dean paused at the scene in front of him. The room was packed with his whole family. Sam and Eileen. Bobby. Jack. Claire. Charlie and Stevie. Jody, Donna, Patience, Alex, and Kaia. Garth, Bess, and the kids. Even Adam was there, and Dean felt emotion well in him once more.

“What’s this,” he asked, even though the answer was incredibly obvious.

“It’s your birthday party,” Jack told him, grinning excitedly as he dropped glittery cowboy hats on Dean and Cas’s heads, causing Dean to notice the decorations covering nearly every surface of the room. There were cowboy hat and cowboy boot streamers hanging from the ceiling, a cowboy hat centerpiece on the table, and every person in the room was wearing a glittery cowboy hat.

“Jack planned the whole thing,” Sam said, grinning at Dean, and Dean laughed.

“Thank you, Jack,” Dean said, clapping Jack on the shoulder. Jack shot forward and enveloped Dean in a crushing hug, and Dean laughed and hugged him back.

About ten minutes into the party, Cas disappeared and came back dressed to seriously test Dean resolve – cowboy hat, cowboy boots, dark jeans, belt buckle, and embroidered shirt. He had been about 10 seconds from dragging Cas from the room when Jack had announced it was time to open presents, and Dean had glared at Cas when he tried to cover his laugh with a cough.

The pile of presents on the table felt a little daunting. They ranged from heartfelt – like the framed photo of Jack and Claire in the “World’s Best Dad” frame – to practical – like the collection of knives from Eileen. Even Adam had gotten him a _Tombstone_ tshirt, which had led to a moment between them that actually felt like _bonding_ and gave him hope that he and his youngest sibling could still mend fences. 

After presents and cake and laughter, Garth and Bess left first, kids in tow. Patience, Alex, and Adam took off next. Everyone else announced that they were staying the night and would head out after breakfast, and one by one they retreated to their rooms.

By the time they’re alone, Dean is too exhausted to do anything about his new favorite outfit of Cas’s, but he makes him promise to wear it again soon, which Cas agrees to with a grin.

“Did you have a nice birthday,” Cas asked once they were comfortable in their bed.

“Best birthday ever,” Dean told him genuinely, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I got you something else,” Cas said, reaching over into his nightstand and pulling out a small box.

“I thought the outfit was my present,” Dean replied cheekily, leaning over to press a kiss to Cas’s cheek. “And the Dr. Sexy DVDs.”

Cas ignored him in favor of placing the box on Dean’s lap. Dean opened it to find a black ring with a glowing blue line wrapping around the center.

“Cas, is this-,” he asked, awe evident in his voice.

“Sam was able to extract enough grace to make this,” Cas replied. “I love you, and I want you to have it.”

Overwhelmed, Dean pulled Cas into a rough kiss, because he knew his voice would shake far too much if he tried to find some way to reply now.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to say, and his voice only shook a little bit.

There, safe and warm with the love of his life by his side, Dean thought of the nuns. He makes it a point to think of them every year on his birthday. For a long time – over a decade – it had been for two reasons. First, it felt important to remember them. Second, he needed to remind himself of _why_ he had to keep that part hidden from John. His father’s love had been conditional – Dean had always known that – and he wasn’t willing to jeopardize that. Eventually, as John’s memory faded and was replaced with the family he built for himself, that had seemed less important.

Still, he had promised himself he would remember the nuns, and so he thought about them on his birthday every year.

“Can I show you something,” Dean asked quietly. Suddenly, it seemed very important that Cas knew. 

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean went to his desk and pulled out the old, worn bible, he had kept hidden all these years and ran his fingers over the cracked binding. Over the years, he had flipped through it and found more passages underlined by the nuns – by Anna or Isabella he would never know. He crawled back into bed and leaned into Cas’s warmth before he propped the bible between them.

He stared at it for a while, and could feel Cas’s steady gaze on him as he waited patiently for Dean to tell him what significance the bible had.

Eventually, Dean started talking. He started with Sammy jumping on the bed, on his dad finally being around for his birthday. Then he talked about the hunt, and the nuns, and finding the bible along with the letters and the hair. He talked about wanting to remember them.

“I’ve always liked this passage,” Cas said, running a finger delicately over the words Anna had referenced in her inscription. “I know how they must have felt about each other.”

“Do you think they’re together now,” Dean asked quietly. It was a question that he’d been wondering since he’d learned about angels and heaven.

“I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be,” Cas replied, one arm wrapped tightly around Dean’s waist as his thumb drew lazy circles on Dean’s hip. “Jack tore down the walls in heaven, so I’m sure they found each other.”

“You’re sure they’re in heaven?”

“I don’t know anything about them, but I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be,” Cas said gently. “I can ask Jack to look for them, if you want.”

Dean thought about it, about _knowing_ – being sure – that the nuns had found peace after he had torched their hair.

“No, that’s okay,” he decided finally. “Maybe I’ll go find them myself in a few decades.”

“Many, many decades,” Cas agreed, moving the bible to his bedside table and burrowing into Dean’s side.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Dean clicked off his lamp, and then reached over Cas to turn off his as well before he settled into his pillows with a sigh. Cas shifted so he was practically laying on top of Dean, and Dean wrapped his arms around his former angel.

“Happy birthday,” Cas mumbled, and then he was out. Dean pressed a kiss into his boyfriend’s hair before allowing sleep to claim him, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope the very much alive Dean Winchester had an amazing 42nd birthday with his family.


End file.
